


Worse Than Myth

by oFFs



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically, Clone O'Neill deserved better, Clone O'Neill is the Winter Soldier, Fandoms Collide, Gen, I've been reading too much Marvel, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oFFs/pseuds/oFFs
Summary: After the assassination of another world's president, Daniel finds himself face to face with the killer.---It was so much worse than that, though, worse than the fact that Daniel had no defense against an armed killer. Heknewthat face, had seen it nearly every day for years, although it was much younger than he was ever used to seeing it. Granted, he knew of someone with that face who'd be around eighteen or nineteen years old, now.





	Worse Than Myth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeanisBatman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanisBatman/gifts).



> This is really more of a teaser than a full story, but my friend insisted that I HAD to write this scene. If there is enough interest, I will probably write a full fic, eventually.

Screams filled the air, people running in fear. A relatively peaceful day had in a moment turned to chaos. Somehow, a part of Daniel's brain still found a way to wonder how the trade negotiations would be affected by the assassination of Vin Haluth's president.

There'd been rumors over the past several years, whispers of some person or entity making their way throughout the galaxy, committing murders and inciting conflicts. Ankou was the name they'd been given by one people and it had caught on. Daniel had recognized it, of course, from Breton mythology: the personification of death. The way they'd been described, like some ghost who could walk through walls and enter secured locations undetected, had made them sound more like a myth, a bogeyman who couldn't be real. None of the teams from the SGC had been able to find any substantial proof that this Ankou really existed, though perhaps they had been distracted enough with the Ori that they'd failed to give any investigation the proper attention.

The man certainly didn't look like a myth from where Daniel was currently standing.

Ankou had stalked past him without so much as a look before something had possessed the archaeologist to call out to him, to demand that he stopped. So, now Daniel stood face to face with the figure, an unarmed scientist against an armored assassin kitted out with more weapons than he could count. He was garbed all in black - of course he was - from the shoulders down to the heavy boots which were surprisingly soundless when he walked. Apparently, he was less worried about his skull because he wore no helmet, his brown locks of hair allowed to fall in a wild mane around his head. His left arm was extended towards him, the hand in a fist so as not to obstruct the energy weapon mounted on his forearm, clearly primed and ready to fire.

Not that Daniel was paying any of these things much attention. No, his gaze was fixed, horror-stricken, to the man's face. It was still partially obscured by a device over his left eye but the mask - the muzzle, really - that had covered the lower half of his features had been displaced in an earlier struggle, leaving his face visible. _God_ , he was barely more than a kid.

It was so much worse than that, though, worse than the fact that Daniel had no defense against an armed killer. He _knew_ that face, had seen it nearly every day for years, although it was much younger than he was ever used to seeing it. Granted, he knew of someone with that face who'd be around eighteen or nineteen years old, now.

"Oh, my god," Daniel breathed, heart constricting in his chest as he realized he really ought to have followed up on his best friend's clone like he'd always planned, " _Jack_?"

The assassin merely stared at him, weapon still aimed, not a hint of recognition in his brown eye as the aperture of the device over his left - _oh, god, did that thing_ replace _his eye?_ \- rotated, zooming in, perhaps, or whatever it was meant to do. Still, the features remained impassive. When he spoke, the words wounding Daniel's heart, his voice was rough and raw, as though the only thing it had been used for recently was to let out throat-rending screams.

"Who the hell is Jack?"


End file.
